I got to the Superlab a tiny bit early in my self-imposed work schedule today, so obviously I'm celebrating by wasting time, instead of getting ahead on work. Because Food Network Humor isn't going to read itself, people.
I read on National Geographic today about a fish with an awesome name - the Pancake Batfish.
Go on, say it out loud. Pancake Batfish.
It's a new species that was discovered in 2010 that may already be extinct or endangered due to the fact that it lives in parts of the Gulf of Mexico that were hugely affected by the oil spill. It's so ugly I think it's cute:
It's called the Pancake Batfish because it is flat, like a pancake, and it uses its fins to actually walk on the ocean floor. This gives it an odd stride that looks like a bat walking. Yeah, I don't understand how biologists' minds work sometimes, but Pancake Batfish is such an awesome name that I don't care. Pancake Batfish Pancake Batfish Pancake Batfish.
But, you know, on to my next favorite time waster - babbling on here. I have no real evidence that anyone reads this, so it's kind of become like talk therapy for me. Bag space is at a premium these days, so I can't carry a physical journal, but this usually serves the same sort of function.
Speaking of, today marks the third day of Getting Shit Done Without Using My Car - even if I did have to catch a ride to track with The Librarian, which is kind of cheating except car pooling is economical and environmentally-friendly, too. I'm getting really into having a bike as my main mode of transportation. I'm much more aware of my surroundings and the actual trip itself, not just as a line between point A and point B. It's a part of the day now.
Also, I have lost two pounds, but I suspect that the torso-sized bag of Malt-O-Meal Honey Buzzers (Honeycomb facsimiles that are actually better tasting because they're not as sweet) may change that.
Track last night started out awful and I totally wanted to just throw in the towel during the warm-up. It was hot and I was unhappy and everything just felt wrong. I didn't quit because I suspected that I was going to feel hot and unhappy whether I was running or sitting on my ass on the grass, and if I was sitting on my ass on the grass I would have felt hot, unhappy AND fat and lazy.
We did two 800s followed by eight 400s, walking 200 in between each 400. I felt like shit the first couple but then it started to cool down and my body started to get what I was asking it to do. I had one 400 that felt actually really good (even though I didn't say anything because no one wants to hear that while they're suffering through the same thing) but it was kind of an aberration as I ran the same time before and after and both of those were hard. It takes me 117 strides on my right leg to get around the track once, in case anyone wanted to know. When I'm hurting, my brain clicks back into OCD counting mode. If you ever ask me how a run went and I say, "I counted the whole time," then you know either it was shitty, or I was really stressed out about something.
I've been thinking about running form a lot lately, and paying attention to mine. I understand what's supposed to be good form, and I can hold that for a while, and I can feel that it's more efficient and makes me move faster. But for whatever reason, I can't hold it naturally, or over a long period of time. I can do it consistently for like 200 meters, or for short bursts of speed, but when I start to struggle to hold pace, I seem to sort of... sink down into my normal form. Which is not bad, I don't think, but I just can't move as fast in it. I feel like I could be a lot faster than I am when it comes to shorter distances.
Well, I didn't drag this ridiculously heavy Earth Science book here just to have the extra weight going up hills. Time to learn about the heating of Earth's surface and atmosphere. Personally, I think I learned all I needed to know about it at track yesterday.
They say training in heat makes you better conditioned, even for colder temperatures. I'll be telling myself that a lot this summer. I can already tell.